


all that's best of dark and bright

by leiascully



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), The Sandman
Genre: Community: bsg_pornbattle, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-04
Updated: 2009-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-03 01:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've been waiting for you your whole life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	all that's best of dark and bright

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Originally written for [**bsg_pornbattle**](http://community.livejournal.com/bsg_pornbattle/) the Second. The prompt was "waiting for Kara".  
> Disclaimer: _Battlestar Galactica_ and all related characters belong to Ronald Moore, NBC Universal, Sci-Fi Channel, and Sky One. _Sandman_ and all related characters belong to Neil Gaiman and Vertigo. No infringement is intended and no profit is made from this.

"So this is it?" Sam asks.

"How did you know?" she asks. Death is a slender woman, very pale, dressed in a black tank top and jeans and some very dramatic eye makeup. An ankh dangles around her throat.

"I'm not in a frakking tub anymore," he says. "I'm wearing my Bucks uniform. I've been waiting for you for a while."

"I've been waiting for you your whole life," Death says with a sweet smile.

"Where is she?" he demands abruptly.

"Kara?" Death shrugs. "She'll be along. She's always been mine, though my siblings have tried to claim her from time to time. Desire. Destiny. Destruction, for a while. She's a popular girl, your wife. I've known her a long time."

"I'll wait here," Sam says. "Wherever the frak here is."

"You don't recognize it?" Death asks, putting her hands in her pockets.

Sam turns around. It's a small room, cinderblock walls, no decor but a cot and some clothes strewn around. His room on Caprica, and the only reason he didn't have to share was that no one else had wanted quarters that small. The place he brought Kara, after he found her in the forest. The place he kissed Kara, the first time. "Why am I here?"

"You wanted to be here," Death says. "I'm not a mind reader. It's a favor from my brother." She sits on the cot and pats it. "We'll wait together."

He hesitates, then sits down next to her. "What the hell have I got to lose?" he says out loud.

"Nothing," she says, smiling again. "What shall we do while we wait?"

"Are you hitting on me?" He glares at her and she sighs.

"Sam, you wished for me like a lover often enough lately. I didn't take you out of spite or malice. I took you because I love you."

"No, you took me because I flew into a sun." He turns his face away, elbows propped on his legs.

"Either way," she says, "I love you. I came for you. You loved her for the same thing."

"It doesn't mean anything if I kiss you," he says.

"It means everything," she says, and when he looks into her eyes, there are stars there, more stars than he imagined.

"Oh," he says. She picks up his hands, puts them on her breasts. She strokes his face with cool fingers. Her lips are cool too, but her tongue feels like any other kiss. He leans into it, caressing her small breasts, slipping one arm around her. It's easy to pull her into his lap: she's lighter than he expected. She strokes his back with one hand and unzips his shirt with the other. Her hair tickles his neck.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Even for those who want me the most, the transition is difficult," she says quietly, squeezing his forearm. "The life in you was glorious. It's hard to let go."

"Sometimes you have to," he says, pushing his hands under her shirt. She lets him take it off, gazing at him with a mixture of pity and warmth.

"Sometimes you don't," she says.

He kisses her hard, longingly, suddenly desperate for that moment of release. It's easy to strip her jeans off her slim hips, easy to shimmy out of his pants, easy to pull her onto his lap and guide her down onto his aching cock. He's missed mobility lately, half-hated the Fleet for the confined spaces, the way the gym never satisfied him the way a game did, in the open air with the whole world around him, seeking its own perfection. Death is lithe in his arms, moaning as she rides him, and she feels real. She's hot and sweet as any woman, and he can't help groaning. He can't help clutching her back, burying his face in her breasts, and knotting one hand in her hair. She leans into him, grinding her hips against him.

"I wished for you," he pants. He's thrusting into her like his life depends on it. He's gripping her hips, holding her down on him; she wriggles and slips and digs her nails into his back. "I did. Gods, I wanted you. I need her back. I need to know."

"I love you," she whispers, and he comes in a white hot daze like the memory of the corona reaching out to meet him.


End file.
